Ode to Friday: Sophocles


It was like this! When we went back, after those terrible threats of yours, we swept away all the dust that covered the corpse, carefully stripped the mouldering body, and then sat shielded by the hilltops from the wind, avoiding the smell that might have come to us from it, each man watchfully arousing his neighbour with volleys of abuse, if anyone seemed likely to neglect this task. This lasted until the bright circle of the sun took its place in the sky and the midday heat began to roast us; and then suddenly a whirlwind on the ground raised up a storm, a trouble in the air, and filled the plain, tormenting all the foliage of the woods that covered the ground there; and the vast sky was filled with it, and we shut our eyes and endured the godsent affliction.

~ from Antigone, Sophocles (Greek, 497-406BC), translated by Hugh Lloyd-Jones


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